Rules
by 14hpgirl19
Summary: "The first rule of being in the Secret Service: Protect the President at whatever cost." My entry for the "Love in the Oval Office" Challenge over at the Philinda AU Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

"MELINDA!"

Melinda May had only a few seconds to turn around before a tiny body collided with her legs. Suppressing a smile, she looked down to see Skye Coulson's toothy grin beaming up at her.

"Someone is in a good mood," Melinda said. "Any reason why?"

Skye giggled. "You know why, silly."

Melinda pretended to think about it. "Hmmm… It's almost the Fourth of July?"

"No!"

"It's sunny outside?"

"No. It's my birthday!" Skye declared, bouncing up and down. Melinda slapped her forehead.

"Of course it is! How could I forget that?"

"Because you're silly," Skye said matter-of-factly. Melinda smirked and crouched before the little girl. She smoothed the skirt of Skye's dress, watching as Skye straightened her back.

"Happy birthday, Skye," Melinda said sincerely. "You look beautiful."

"Do you think Daddy will like my dress?" Skye twisted this way and that, causing her skirt to flare out slightly.

"I think he will _love_ it."

"He said he cleared his _entire_ schedule for me," Skye whispered in awe.

"That's because he loves you very much."

Skye began babbling about her party, but Melinda was forced to tune it out when she heard her boss' voice come through the comms.

"May, we are ready for departure. Bring the First Daughter to the car."

Melinda pressed her finger to her earwig. "Copy that, sir." She refocused on Skye, taking one of her hands. "Ready to go, birthday girl?"

Skye nodded eagerly. Keeping a solid grip on Skye's hand, Melinda led the girl out of her bedroom and through the maze that was the White House. In the past year of being assigned to President Coulson's security detail, Melinda had grown used to the massive building, to the point where she could probably navigate her way through it blindfolded. Of course, that was almost a necessity to being a part of the Secret Service, but Melinda was still proud of it.

Melinda's main job was watching out for the President's five – no, now six-year-old daughter. At public functions, Melinda was to ensure the First Daughter was always protected, and, in the event of danger, could be taken to a secure location. As the year progressed, however, Melinda was regularly assigned to keeping Skye occupied. Sure, she still protected the President and came along whenever he left the White House, but otherwise Skye was her main priority. At first, she disliked being a glorified babysitter, but there was something about the young girl that tugged at Melinda's heartstrings. It was hard not to fall for her, and that was exactly what Melinda did.

That had not gone unnoticed by Melinda's boss, even though he had advised her against getting close the first day of Melinda's assignment. Nick Fury trusted Melinda's judgement, but he still watched her like a hawk. Admittedly, she couldn't blame him.

He was watching her closely when she emerged from the side door with Skye in tow. Melinda had been prepared for the scrutiny and had wiped the broad smile from her face just prior to exiting the building.

"Nicky!" Skye cried, rushing to hug the head of her father's Secret Service. A rare smile appeared on his face.

"Happy birthday, Skye."

"Thank you!" She glanced around. "Where's Daddy?"

"Right here, princess."

The door to the President's limo had opened the moment Skye came outside, and Phil Coulson emerged at his daughter's question. It didn't seem possible, but Skye's smile had grown even bigger at the sight of her father, and she threw herself at him much like she had at Melinda earlier.

"Happy birthday, baby girl," he whispered, holding Skye close.

Melinda's heart nearly exploded with how precious the two of them were. The American public could debate how effective he was as a president until everyone was blue in the face, but no one could dispute his strength as a father. He had won America over with his story of being a single father after Skye's mother died in a car accident a few years back. He had proven how devoted he was, impressing even the harshest of critics.

(Only momentarily, of course. The mudslinging had resumed twenty-four hours later.)

"Mr. President," Fury said. "We have to go if we're going to be on time."

"Yes, of course." Coulson helped Skye into the limo and slid in after her. Fury shut the door behind them and turned to Melinda, who almost didn't get rid of her smile in time. He raised an eyebrow at her before nodding to the SUV designated for security personnel idling in front of the limo.

After Melinda buckled herself into the passenger seat and Fury had taken the wheel, the motorcade had left the White House and begun its trek to the indoor playground Skye's party was to be held at. Melinda watched the streets of Washington DC fly by, mentally counting the seconds until she got the speech she knew was coming.

"May."

 _Not even a minute._

"Sir."

"You remember what I told you about getting close to the Coulsons." It was not a question, and Melinda knew it.

"Yes, sir."

"And what was it?"

Melinda swallowed. "Don't."

"Remember that, Agent May."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Nearly two hours later, the party was in full swing. Children from Skye's prep school were running around on sugar-induced highs, and their parents (or, their security details) were monitoring it all. The President had implemented a strict "No politics" rule for the day, which most were all too happy to comply with. Coulson himself had stated that he didn't want Secret Service shadowing his every move, so they were currently lined up against the wall where they could watch from afar. The day was all about Skye. He was just a normal father celebrating his little girl's birthday.

Melinda had to commend him for it. Very few people in Washington would forego an entire day just for their child, and the fact that the President was one of those people was incredible. It restored a little bit of Melinda's faith in humanity (and in politicians).

And it was a bonus to see Coulson interact with his daughter. Normally, he looked worn and far older than he actually was. Melinda would be hard pressed to think of a time when he smiled after his inauguration. It was sad, really, to slowly see the life sucked from the man.

But today, he was as every bit vibrant and carefree as he had been prior to his election. He was smiling, he was laughing, he was running around. It was wonderful. Melinda's heart stuttered ever so slightly each time she caught sight of him. He was a handsome man, and he looked even better when he was alive like this.

"Melinda!" a little voice called. Looking to her right, she spotted Skye running up, her best friends Leo and Jemma right behind her. "Look at what my friends got me!"

"Well, isn't that something," Melinda said, taking the doll Skye was holding out. It was a hula girl, complete with a lei and grass skirt.

"Will you play with me later?"

Melinda chose her words carefully, mindful of Fury's gaze on her back. "We'll see, okay?"

"Okay!" Skye chirped. Melinda passed the doll back and watched as the children darted off.

"She really likes you, you know."

Melinda nearly jumped at the sound of a new voice. She internally reminded herself to remain calm.

"Mr. President."

"A-ah," Coulson said, giving Melinda a reproving look. "Remember my rule."

"Mr. Coulson."

"How about Phil?" Coulson smiled, and Melinda felt heat rise on her cheeks.

"Phil," she said cautiously. Coulson's – no, _Phil's_ smile grew, and Melinda returned it tentatively.

"There. Was that so hard?"

"Yes."

Phil chuckled, though it held a tinge of sadness. "Yeah, I can see how that might be difficult." He tilted his head to the side. "Now, I know I've met you before, but I don't think I've ever really talked to you. It's Melinda, correct?"

He posed it as a question, but Melinda knew deep down that he already knew what her name was. Something about that thrilled her.

"Yes."

"Do you always give one word answers?" he teased. "And, yes, I am counting 'Mr. President' and 'Mr. Coulson' as one word answers because… because I'm the President, and I can."

It took all of Melinda's willpower not to smirk. "No."

"Oh, you're good. No wonder you're a part of the Secret Service."

Melinda allowed a tiny smile to come forth, which seemed to please Phil. He turned and surveyed the party, leaning close to Melinda so he could still be heard.

"I've been wanting to talk with you for some time now, actually," he confessed. "I know you're the agent who usually looks after Skye, and I wanted to give you my thanks in person."

"It's no problem, sir."

"Drop the 'sir', agent." His voice was light, which made it impossible for Melinda to contain her next comment.

"Then drop the 'agent'."

This caught Phil off guard, but he seemed delighted by it. "Alright, Melinda."

"Skye is a wonderful girl," she admitted, trying to ignore the way he was staring at her now. "It's been a pleasure watching her."

Phil sighed and resumed overlooking the party. "I was initially worried about how my taking office would affect her. Before, when I was only a senator, she at least had her mom. But then we lost her, and I almost gave up on running. You know what changed my mind?"

"What?"

Phil smiled. "Skye. I wanted to make this country great for her, better for her. And the only way to do that was from the Oval Office."

"That's incredible," Melinda said without thinking. She immediately ducked her head, which drew a laugh from Phil.

"Thank you. Of course, that doesn't mean I was any less worried for her, but…" He looked at Melinda, and she slowly met his gaze. "I know she's in good hands."

Melinda held her breath, staring into his eyes. They were startlingly blue, and Melinda realized she had never been this close to him.

It took only a second for everything to fall apart. An explosion tore through all the childish shrieks and laughter, sending smoke and shrapnel through the room. Melinda didn't even think before she dragged Phil to the ground, throwing her body on top of his.

The indoor playground was in utter chaos. Screams, no longer happy, filled the air, and security guards could be heard ordering people to get down.

"Does anyone have eyes on the president?" Fury barked through the comms. It took Melinda a few seconds to process what he was saying, as her hearing had been momentarily blocked.

"I do," Melinda reported. She quickly gave Phil a once over, pleased to see he wasn't injured. "I'm getting him out of here."

Phil grasped her arm. "Skye. Where's Skye?"

As soon as he had said it, Skye's voice could be heard over the din. "DADDY!"

Phil's grip tightened. "I'm not leaving her."

The first rule of being in the Secret Service: Protect the President at whatever cost. He needed to be removed from the area as soon as possible. She looked at Phil squarely in the eye.

"Neither am I."

Melinda shoved Phil into a nearby alcove and charged into the smog. She could barely see in front of her. A growing heat told her there was a fire somewhere, and smoke was filling her lungs at an alarming rate.

"Skye?" she called, struggling to hear.

A second explosion rocked the building. Melinda fell to the ground, fear increasing exponentially. She had to move fast.

"Skye?" she tried again, raising her voice. She scrambled to her feet. _Please, please, please…_

"Melinda?"

"Skye! Where are you, sweetie? Talk to me."

"Over here."

Melinda groaned. That didn't help at all. Her hearing was off, and she could barely see. Dust clouded her vision in every direction. She tripped over something hard, catching herself at the last second.

"Keep talking to me, Skye. I'll find you."

Static crackled in her ear. "May, have you gotten the President out?"

"In the process, sir."

"Melinda, I'm scared," Skye sobbed. Her voice came from Melinda's left. Moving that way, she squinted and could just make out a tiny shape a few feet away.

"Skye," Melinda breathed, kneeling by the little girl. She was curled up on the ground, her whole body covered in a thick layer of dust and soot. "Are you hurt?"

Skye shook her head. Tear tracks were apparent on her face. "Where's my daddy?"

"He's behind me," Melinda said. "I'm going to get you two out of here, okay?"

She scooped Skye up in her arms and ran back the way she came. Or, she hoped it was the way she came. She couldn't quite tell.

"Daddy?" Skye yelled before being struck with a coughing fit.

"Keep your mouth covered, Skye," Melinda instructed. "I'll get you to your daddy."

It took a few minutes longer than Melinda would have preferred, but eventually Melinda could partially see the wall she had been standing by when the first explosion hit.

 _Please let him be okay._

"Mr. President?" she called.

A cough, and then, "Here."

Melinda located the alcove and found Phil crouched inside. Skye squirmed, and Melinda set her down. Skye run forward and hugged her father tightly. Phil closed his eyes and burrowed his face in her neck.

"Mr. President," Melinda said, her breathing ragged. A few coughs escaped her. "Phil. We have to get out of here."

Phil looked up and nodded. He kept Skye in his arms as he stood.

"Lead the way," he said.

Sticking close to the wall, Melinda followed it until her hand hit a door. She opened it and looked inside, relieved to discover a hallway lined with what she assumed were offices. She ushered Phil and Skye in, closing the door behind her. The three of them moved down the hall and came to an exit at the end.

"Let me check," she said, stepping ahead of Phil. She cautiously opened the door and checked the outside. Police cars had surrounded the building. She opened the door wider and allowed Phil and Skye to step out.

"I need a car," she yelled, catching the attention of the nearest officer. She looked startled at the sight of the President emerging from the building covered in dust, but handed the keys to a cruiser over with no objections. The officer pointed at the proper vehicle, and the three of them ran over. Melinda helped Phil and Skye get in the back before hopping in the driver's seat. She stuck the key in the ignition and turned the car on, peeling away from the scene and merging onto the street.

"Shouldn't we do something to help?" Phil asked, twisting in his seat to look at the crumbling building.

"My number one objective is to get you to safety, Mr. President."

"Phil."

She ignored him and turned on the police lights and sirens. Cars began parting for them on the street, and Melinda increased their speed. She glanced at the duo in the back.

"Get down."

"Excuse me?"

"Get down. Don't let anyone see you."

Phil obeyed, ducking down. He cradled Skye close to his side, and the little girl began crying anew. He shushed her gently and whispered soothing words in her ear. Feeling intrusive, Melinda blocked out their conversation and focused on the road.

With her speedy driving, Melinda got them to the secure location in a matter of minutes. It was an underground bunker situated a few miles from the White House. Melinda made sure there was no one around before bringing Phil and Skye inside.

The bunker was furnished with only a table and a bed. Crates filled with food and other supplies lined one wall. Melinda flicked on the overhead lights and locked the door behind them.

She located a burner phone in one of the crates and called Fury to update him. While she did, Phil settled on the bed with Skye still in his arms.

"Do you think everyone is okay?" Skye asked, sniffling. Phil kissed her forehead.

"I don't know, sweetheart." He squeezed Skye tightly. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

"For what?"

"For having this ruin your birthday. I'll make it up to you when this is all over, I promise."

Skye contemplated it for a moment. "It didn't _totally_ ruin it. I'm with you and Melinda. That makes me happy."

Melinda had just hung up when Skye said the last part. The little girl could barely comprehend what had happened. She didn't see the tragedy behind it, what this could mean for the country's safety. Melinda wished she could have Skye's mindset.

Phil spotted Melinda standing by the door. The second she realized he was looking at her, she averted her gaze.

 _Distance,_ she reminded herself. _You need distance. You cannot get close._

"You can sit down," Phil said. Melinda stiffened at the sound of his voice.

"I'm fine, sir."

" _Phil._ "

"Are you hurt in any way, sir?"

Phil shifted Skye in his arms. "I'm not telling you until you agree to call me Phil again."

Melinda gritted her teeth. "Are you hurt, Phil?"

He smiled cheekily, which looked out of place (yet no less wonderful) considering what had happened. "No. I had a great agent protecting me." His gaze turned into a concerned one. "Are you?"

Her eyes still stung from all the smoke, and her chest was tight. There was a chance she had pulled something in her lower back one of the times she fell, too.

"No."

Skye stirred. Melinda thought she had fallen asleep. "Come here, Melinda," she mumbled. Phil raised his eyebrows at the agent.

"I think I'm going to stay over here, Skye," she answered, trying to avoid Phil's gaze. Skye let out a little moan.

"Please?"

 _Maybe Fury's on to something,_ Melinda thought as she found herself walking over to the bed. She was helpless against Skye's begging, and based on the look Phil was wearing, he knew it, too.

Melinda hesitated next to the bed, unsure of where to go. It was large enough for all of them to sleep on if they truly wanted, which didn't seem that awful to Melinda.

"Snuggle with me?" Skye requested. Melinda mentally cursed all the times she had indulged the little girl in cuddles at the end of the day. It was the type of thing Fury told her not to do, but Melinda had never been one for following the rules.

Phil began to relinquish his hold on Skye, but she just clutched him tighter. He frowned.

"I thought you wanted Melinda."

"I want you, too."

Melinda's lips parted. _Oh, no…_

"We have to obey the birthday girl," Phil said softly. He maneuvered himself and Skye onto their backs and turned them so they were lying along the length of the bed. Melinda was still frozen. Phil looked up at her. "You coming?"

Melinda's throat was dry. "I don't think this is a good idea…"

But it seemed so appealing.

"Melinda," Skye whined.

"Melinda," Phil murmured, his blue eyes pleading with her.

 _Like father, like daughter._

Slowly, Melinda peeled off her jacket and lowered herself onto the bed. She inched closer to the pair, wrapping her arm around Skye's waist. Her hand grazed Phil's side, and she immediately withdrew it, limiting her contact to Skye only. Skye hummed her contentment and relaxed. After a few minutes, the only sound in the bunker was her soft breathing as she drifted off to sleep.

Melinda remained tense, keeping her gaze on Skye's head. She could feel Phil watching her, but she refused to look up.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Saving us. Going back for Skye. I know you're supposed to get me out first, but you helped her instead."

Melinda shifted. "Like I said before, she's a wonderful girl."

"Melinda."

There was something in his voice that made her unable to resist looking up. She met his gaze, her breath catching slightly when she saw those damn blue eyes. She gasped when she felt his hand cover hers where it rested on Skye.

"I just want you to know," he said, "that you're very important to Skye. And anyone who is important to Skye is important to me."

"You're just saying that because I saved your life." She tried to play it off as a joke, but there was a modicum of truth to it. Phil shook his head.

"Skye talks about you all the time. I might not speak to you, but I feel like I know you. And I'm not saying anything needs to happen between us, but I'd like to get to know you more. On my own."

Once again, Melinda found herself unable to resist. Only this time, she didn't even want to.

"I'd like to get to know you, too," she whispered.

Phil rubbed his thumb over the back of Melinda's hand, sending shivers down her spine.

"It's a date."


	2. Chapter 2

**I was asked to write a second part on Tumblr, so I decided to post it here too. Thank you to everyone who as read, reviewed, followed, and favorited. You're all really wonderful, and I appreciate your support. =)**

Melinda tried her best not to look at the clock again. She knew it would only make her more restless, which would just make time move slower. _Patient, be patient._

Melinda was hungry. No, scratch that, she was _starving._ She had been running late that morning thanks to an unexpected phone call from her mother, and she had skipped breakfast. In addition to that, the night before she had only managed a paltry sandwich due to the benefit President Coulson had to attend. A security detail was necessary, as usual, and by the end of the night Melinda was so exhausted she just collapsed into bed.

So really, she hadn't eaten much in the past twenty-four hours, and she was quite eager to rectify that.

She was currently stuck in a briefing that was supposedly going to let out at 12:30. At least, that was what Fury had claimed.

"Now," he was saying, drawing Melinda from her thoughts about her aching stomach, "Next week the President has his conference with England's Prime Minister, which I'm sure you're all aware of." He sent a stern look around the table, receiving tight nods from the assembled agents.

"The President has requested a small Secret Service team, as he doesn't want to come off as 'too threatening or paranoid-looking.'" Fury rolled his one good eye, and Melinda suppressed a smile. "So, Barton, Hill, and May, you're all coming with me." Fury's gaze rested on Melinda far longer than the others, and she felt like squirming.

"Alright, get out of here, all of you." Fury waved his hand, and the room emptied faster than you could say "Free pizza buffet." Melinda practically jumped out of her chair in her haste to leave, but before she could make it to the door, Fury stopped her.

"May, a word."

"Sir?" She tried to act clueless, but it didn't take a mind-reader to know what was coming.

"I hope I haven't made a bad call in having you come to England," he said sternly.

"Have I done something to make you think you did?" she asked as politely as she could.

"Not yet," Fury admitted. "You're one of my best agents, if not the best. You've done incredible things for this country." His glare intensified. "But while I may be missing one eye, I'm not blind. I can see how close you are to the First Daughter, and I know the President is aware of it, too. Don't make it a security risk."

"Understood."

Fury stared at her for a moment longer before nodding, satisfied. "Have a good lunch, May."

"You too, sir."

Melinda sped from the room, desperate to put as much distance as possible between her and her boss. Over the past few weeks, those talks had gotten more frequent, and Melinda's movements had been heavily scrutinized. She knew exactly why, but that did nothing to calm her. In fact, it made the unease she felt worse.

Nearly a month ago, two bombs had gone off at the First Daughter's birthday party. Melinda had taken it upon herself to get the little girl and her father out, and she did without difficulty. She brought them to an underground bunker, where they waited for several hours until more Secret Service agents came to debrief the President and take them home.

Within that span of time, Melinda found herself lying on a bed with Skye, the First Daughter, curled up against her side, and Skye's father, the President of the Freaking United States, holding Melinda's hand. She would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed it. That terrified her.

He had confessed he wanted to get to know her better, and Melinda wanted that too, but since then she had only seen him when she was on his security detail. The aftermath of the bombings had been a major blow for the country, and President Coulson was put under near-constant surveillance.

The bombers had been apprehended just last week, and the public was beginning to get back on its feet. That meant the President's schedule was lightening up (as much as the leader of the free world's schedule could lighten up), and Melinda had no clue as to what would happen.

On one hand, she wished he would just forget about her. Fury was watching her every move like a hawk, and if he caught her in any state of friendship (or something else) with Coulson – _Phil,_ he had kept insisting – she would lose her job. And even if he wasn't, getting close to the President had "bad news" written all over it.

Yet, whenever Melinda told herself that, she remembered Phil's blue eyes. She remembered his smile. She remembered the way his hand felt resting over hers.

And she wondered if maybe getting to know him wasn't so bad.

And then she debated whether or not she should just quit now before things got messy.

Melinda shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. It had been a week since the bombers were caught, and nothing from Phil. Therefore, his words at the bunker were simply said in the heat of the moment. He had more important things to do (like run a country) than organize dates with his Secret Service agents.

And if Melinda felt a shred of disappointment, she pushed it away.

She was halfway to the kitchen when a high, tiny voice called her name.

"Melinda!"

"Hello, Skye." Any irritation Melinda had felt about being interrupted was gone at the sight of the First Daughter coming her way. She automatically knelt down so she was at Skye's level.

"Where are you going?" Skye asked.

"I was going to get some lunch," Melinda explained, glancing wistfully down the hall. Her stomach growled.

"I'm going to eat lunch, too!" Skye exclaimed. Her eyes lit up, as though she had just come up with the most wonderful idea. "Will you eat with me?"

"Oh, sweetie, that's very kind of you, but I should probably be alone." Fury's words echoed in her mind. No attachments.

"Please? I have no one to eat with." Skye lowered her head, and Melinda cursed herself for falling prey to the cutest girl on the planet.

"Oh, alright. I suppose one lunch won't hurt."

"Yay!" Skye brightened immediately and grabbed Melinda's hand, leading her back down the hall in the direction Melinda had come. She began chattering about her newest toy, all traces of sadness gone, and Melinda suspected she had just been played.

She was proven correct when Skye finally brought her to their destination. Melinda thought they were going to Skye's bedroom, or maybe a more private kitchen.

She didn't realize she was going to be dining in the Oval Office that afternoon.

"Daddy!" Skye released Melinda's hand and raced over to her father, who opened his arms right in time to catch her. Melinda stood rooted in the doorway, half-debating running away.

"Hello, princess," Phil said, kissing Skye's cheek. "How's your day been so far?"

"Good," Skye replied with a shrug. She grinned. "Better now I'm with you."

"I feel the same way." Phil looked up at Melinda, and a soft smile spread across his face. Melinda's stomach did an odd jump.

"Hi."

She forced herself to swallow. "Hi."

"Will you be joining us for lunch?"

Melinda suddenly felt a wave of guilt for interrupting their special time. "I – Uh, no, I – I didn't – Skye told me she was eating alone, and I felt bad."

Melinda hated how lame she sounded. Phil simply smiled wider, clearly amused by how flustered she was.

"Nicely done, princess," he said to Skye.

"I said it just like you told me to!" Skye declared proudly.

Melinda's eyes darted from Phil to Skye.

"Wait," she said, "Did you _tell_ her to lie to me?"

Phil's expression turned sheepish. "I didn't think you would accept a lunch invitation if it came from me."

"Wouldn't I have to? You _are_ the President."

"Probably, but it wouldn't be the same." Phil suddenly seemed nervous. "If you really don't want to stay, you're free to go." Skye began to protest this, but Phil shushed her, keeping his gaze on Melinda.

He was telling the truth, Melinda could tell. She could turn on her heel and walk straight from this room, and he wouldn't hold it against her. If she was smart, she would do exactly that. These were dangerous waters, and moving further in could result in disastrous consequences.

"Well…" she said slowly, "I do remember you saying something about a date."

Tentative hope flashed across Phil's face. "You want this to be our date?"

Instead of speaking, Melinda simply walked deeper into the room and settled on one of the couches. She removed her jacket and draped it over the back of the couch.

"What's for lunch?"

"Macaroni and cheese!" Skye blurted, overjoyed at this latest development. She slid from her father's lap and darted over to Melinda, hopping up beside the Secret Service agent.

"Sounds delicious," Melinda commented, looking back at Phil. He was smiling warmly at her, and her stomach tingled.

"See, Daddy? Melinda loves mac and cheese," Skye boasted. Melinda suppressed a giggle brought on by the little girl's tone.

"You're right, princess," Phil said, standing up. "You should just run the whole country, you're so much smarter than me." He winked at Melinda and joined the two on the couch.

"That's what I've been saying," Skye stage-whispered to Melinda.

"I don't know, I think your dad can be pretty smart when he wants to be," Melinda said.

"I think that's a compliment. So thank you," Phil said with an inclination of his head. Melinda shrugged.

"A backhanded one, but you're welcome."

"I can have you deported, you know."

"Then you'd lose one of the best members of your security detail."

"You think very highly of yourself."

"I did save your life a few weeks ago."

"That you did." All remnants of teasing left his expression. "Thank you, again, for that."

Melinda blushed, ducking her head. "It's my job."

"So, you wouldn't save me if I wasn't the President?" He was joking again, but it struck something within Melinda.

"No, I would," she said softly, looking up again. Their gazes met, and Melinda practically stopped breathing at the intensity in his eyes.

"Well, either way, thank you."

"You said that already."

"Once doesn't seem enough."

"You've said it more than once."

"Can't you just take my gratitude?" Phil laughed, warming Melinda's body. She smiled.

"You're welcome."

"Thank you, Melinda," Skye said. She spoke quietly, but the two adults still jumped, having forgotten she was there. Melinda glanced down to see Skye fidgeting in her seat.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she replied in an equally soft voice. It suddenly hit Melinda how close she had been to losing this sweet, vibrant girl. It scared her far more than it should have. Melinda brushed Skye's hair back behind her ear.

Phil watched this interaction closely, a long-forgotten feeling blooming in his chest. It was an odd warmth, a happy warmth, the kind he associated with quiet nights and peaceful days.

It was the way he used to feel every time he saw Skye curled up with her mother. He had always pictured it as sunlight in his body, filling him up from head to toe. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt it last.

But there it was, once again, and it led Phil to a very important conclusion: He didn't want to lose it again.


End file.
